


it's been agatha all along

by simpbitch2



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpbitch2/pseuds/simpbitch2
Summary: You're beginning to see Agatha as more than a friend
Relationships: Agatha Harkness (WandaVision)/Reader, Agnes (WandaVision)/Reader
Comments: 23
Kudos: 205





	1. you haven't even noticed

Your time in Westview thus far had been incredibly strange. For starters, you had no idea how long you'd lived in the quaint little town, or where you'd lived previously. In fact, nothing about your past was memorable, nor was it meaningful enough to worry about. And as for Westview itself, the town could only be described as perfect, aside for the occasional odd happenings. You felt safe here, you were happier than you'd ever been (mostly because you couldn't remember any other time in your life.) And this was mainly due to Agnes. 

She'd introduced herself at one of Dottie's arduous meetings by wordlessly handing you a flask of something. Whatever it was made the experience less tiresome, and you walked her home as a way of thanks. This became a routine occurrence until she invited herself to your house, meaning that she showed up on your doorstep unannounced at 10am one day, insisting that you'd previously told her your address. You hadn't, but it was Agnes, so you couldn't say no.

Wanda described you two as inseparable, that wherever you went, Agnes followed. You noticed she was right one night while out on a run. Darkness had descended upon Westview and you found yourself running through a deserted suburban neighbourhood. It was strangely quiet. Too late into the evening to raise concern, but enough that you picked up the pace. Although it didn't seem unsafe, the entire situation was eerie. 

Your imagination was getting the best of you, endless terrifying scenes playing out in you head. And then, you'd turned the corner and run straight into Agnes.   
She acted surprised, maintaining that she'd simply gone for a walk to get some fresh air. At that point, you were too grateful to comment on the fact that you were on the other side of town, or that it was nearly 11pm. She then walked with you the rest of the way, distracting you with trivial gossip and asserting that walking you to your door was imperative of a good friend.

As you stood in the doorway, you struggled to find the words that could truly establish how thankful you were. Or how apologetic that she had to walk home alone now, though you couldn't imagine Agnes ever being helpless or scared. Nonetheless, you seized the opportunity to invite her in, offering the spare bed. For a second she appeared dumbfounded, unusually quiet. You remained staring at each other in a tense silence. Not awkward or uncomfortable, just tense. She eventually accepted, and you chalked up her uncharacteristic behaviour to simply being tired. 

This became the first of your impromptu sleepovers. But by now, you'd learnt that offer something once and Agnes will take advantage of the opportunity. Her presence, though stifling at times, was never unwanted. And she never rejected you, or turned you away. You fully believed Agnes would follow you to the ends of the Earth. Yet recently she hadn't been around as much. No random visits or late night walks, she'd even missed one of Dottie's lethargic afternoon teas, leaving you to suffer through endless frivolous conversation alone. 

If she needed space or was busy, that was understandable, though a little disheartening. What worried you was that she hadn't informed you of any desire to be left alone. And Agnes not speaking her mind, that was worrying. So, with this thought, you set out to find her. 

The walk to her house was as uneventful as any other day. Dennis politely waved at you, Dottie smiled in your general direction, although you interpreted it as more of a grimace. However, the Vision residence was unexpectedly quiet, especially considering two preteen boys currently lived there, and their parents, who always seemed to be in some kind of trouble.  
  
But that was not your main concern, so you moved on to Agnes's house, which was always rather peaceful, or perhaps unostentatious would be a better way to describe it. _Very unlike its inhabitant_. You'd only been inside a couple times, and during the visits she looked to be on edge. You weren't sure why, but didn't get the chance to bring it up as she always reiterated that she preferred going to yours, that she liked to get out the house. 

From the outside, everything appeared to be normal, to the point where you momentarily doubted your concern. Nonetheless you strode across the impeccable tidy lawn towards the house. You knocked, expecting she was inside and would answer, but to your surprise the door swung open on its hinges. Sure, Westview was a safe place to live, but leaving the door open? It was still irresponsible. 

"Agnes?" You called out, unwilling to let yourself in right away. Logically, you knew she wouldn't mind, but you'd prefer verbal confirmation. "Agnes? Can I come in?" You repeated, louder. 

You strained to listen out for a response, yet were met with a heavy silence that only increased your anxiety. Your mind began to wonder through all the worst possibilities; that Agnes was injured, that something bad had happened to her or that she was missing. It did nothing to help while you refused to enter, so tentatively, you stepped through the doorframe and into her house. 

The small amount of time you'd spent at Agnes's had been in the living room, meaning it was the only familiar room. And unfortunately, she wasn't there. It felt wrong to venture through any other rooms uninvited, but there was something unsettling lingering in the air which persuaded you to continue the search. Silence endured as you explored the ground floor, confirming that she was most likely not here. You felt that you were partly overreacting, and decided that she was probably with Wanda, or out shopping. You turned to leave, but before you could reach the entrance, something caught your attention.

Your eyes had landed on another more concealed door, one you hadn't noticed upon arrival. To set your mind at ease once and for all, you chose to check in this last mysterious room, which you discovered lead down to the basement. Going down there was not a particularly enticing prospect, but if you left without checking than the unresolved curiosity would haunt you until Agnes reappeared.

Each step seemed to groan as your vision was plunged into darkness. There was a distinct feeling that you'd crossed some kind of boundary, that you were somewhere you weren't meant to be. It was disturbing. The gloom filling the space felt like a palpable force that you were wading through, and it was almost enough to discourage you. Almost.   
You wanted to call out her name again, but no words left your mouth, leaving you to continue into the depths of the basement. 

At first glance, it appeared to be a perfectly ordinary basement, but as you advanced forwards, the texture of the walls shifted into cold stone bricks. Actually, the whole room altered the further in you went. So did the lighting, which had changed from practically non-existent, to a low purple glow. The source of which seemed to be emitted from bizarre vine like roots stretched across the walls, ceiling and floor.   
Nothing could demoralize you at this point. You were truly determined to find your friend, strange surroundings be damned. And then, you heard it. The clicking of shoes on the stone ground, someone else was here. With renewed strength, you compelled yourself round the twist in the corridor only to crash into this enigmatic figure.

"Y/N?" The trance was broken. Agnes had run into you, and was now standing in front of you with her hands placed upon your shoulder, an inexplicably shocked expression donning her face.

Everything you wanted to say became obsolete in that moment. You were unable to tear your eyes away from Agnes's. All you could think was how much you'd missed her, but if you'd paid any attention, you would've noticed the montage of emotions flickering across her shocked visage. The most prominent one being fear.   
"What're you doing here?" Her voice barely breached above a whisper, with disappointment perceptible in the tone. 

"I was looking for you." Your own voice was equally quiet, and with the unusual circumstance, sounded foreign to your ears. Agnes remained confused, so you continued. "I hadn't heard from you for a while, and I- well I was worried." Anxiously, you chewed on your lips, avidly watching her reaction. 

The tension eased slightly as she smiled, albeit a sad smile. Her hands stayed resting on your shoulders, keeping you in close proximity, and despite the slowly building panic you'd just been subjected to, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. Agnes seemed to hesitate for a second, before wordlessly pulling you towards her. Automatically you lifted your arms to wrap them round her form as she did the same. You sighed into the embrace as she gently rubbed soothing circles on your back. It dawned on you that despite the close friendship you both shared, you'd never hugged her. She was an affectionate person, which balanced out your inability to initiate any physical contact. And still, you'd never been this close to her. With a shuddering breath, you realised you liked it. You liked the experience a little too much to deny that this was more than a friendly hug.

That realisation remained unvoiced as you opted to focus on a more pressing matter. "Not that I'm not enjoying this," you murmured, "but why?" Clarification wasn't necessary. 

Agnes's shoulders shook slightly as she chuckled. She leaned in closer to you, if that was even possible, and took a deep breath before replying. "I just wanted to before I explain everything." Not the answer you expected, but she continued before you could voice any kind of question. "I'm scared you might leave after I tell you. And if you do, I'll have to-" She trailed off. You weren't sure you wanted her to finish that sentence. Nor did you want to imagine her being scared, or feeling any negative emotion for that matter.

Sensing that the sentimental moment was ending, you reluctantly pulled back to make eye contact. "And what if I don't?" 

She smirked in a way that was _so very Agnes_ , "Then you're stuck with me." You rolled your eyes at her statement, seeking comfort in her humour before the oncoming truth you were dreading to hear. She refused to look at you as her hands lowered onto your arms. In a reassuring gesture, she started to smooth out your jumper as you both savoured the silence. "Shall we move upstairs?"

"Yes, please." To your shock you subconsciously linked your hands in a rare display of trust, of devotion. You just wanted to be close to her, experiencing a newfound craving to always maintain contact. It also seemed to take Agnes by surprise, who paused for a second before assuming your action was permission to wrap her arm around your waist. 

You leant against her while allowing yourself to be lead out the basement. And in that moment, you knew that you'd stick by her no matter what she had to say.


	2. who's been messing up everything?

Agnes helped to gently settle you on the couch. The movement was deliberately slow, as if she was afraid you'd shatter into a million pieces, or more realistically, bolt like a frightened animal. The latter would've been a more sensible approach, you ought to have run the second you'd seen her bewitched basement. Instead, you'd tapped into a hidden source of bravery. And even now, as you progressed into uncharted waters, you were instinctually supressing the fear. 

She was reluctant to sit in lieu of standing before you, restlessly wringing her hands. Having known Agnes for what felt like years, you understood that she was struggling to breach the topic, which did nothing to ease your own morbid curiosity. 

"Tea?" She spoke so quickly you almost missed it. The question was a clear attempt to delay the inevitable, which was a tempting concept. 

"Sure." You folded your arms, finding her gaze agonizingly intrusive. She responded with a curt nod, before promptly walking into the kitchen, leaving you unattended to on the couch. 

To pass the time, your eyes travelled around, inspecting everything in further detail. Somehow, in your initial room sweep, you'd missed the TV, only now noticing that it was playing some kind of children's program. And placed before you on the table, two half eaten sandwiches. Earlier, you'd been in such a rush, that the obviously peculiar scene hadn't stuck out like it did now. You cursed your previously inattentive self, and started to connect the dots as you waited.   
Were the twins here? If so, where were they?

Your eyes were locked onto the abandoned plates as you speculated about the twins. Being so lost in thought, the cup of tea floating through the air didn't catch your attention until it'd knocked against your head. You automatically reached out to grab it and silence the sloshing liquid, barely noticing that you were now holding onto a floating teacup. Agnes was following a few steps behind with her hand outstretched. It didn't take much discerning to put two and two together. "So you're- like a witch?" 

"You sound like you're disappointed." A lazy smile stretched across her face as she sat beside you. "Not exciting enough?"

"No just...anticlimactic" You joked, swivelling your body round to face her. 

Her smile faded. "And you're not scared?" She narrowed her eyes, examining your reaction. Agnes's glare was intense, _though wasn't she always?_

"No, not really." Prior to today, you'd believed Agnes would follow you to the ends of the Earth, and despite now discovering she was practically a stranger, some of that trust remained. "I mean, I have a wooden stake at home from Halloween. Just in case."

"That's vampires dear." She grinned at your mistake, moving her hand onto your thigh. Physical contact was something Agnes was prone to, yet now the touch felt amplified. You could feel the heat of her hand through the fabric of your jeans, and became acutely aware of every minor detail. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair was gradually slipping out of its messy bun, how her eyes seemed to land everywhere but your face. Oh, but how you wanted her to look at your face. You craved the eye contact. 

"Agnes?"

"Ah, it's Agatha, actually." She finally looked at you properly, although simultaneously, sheepishly. It occurred to you in that moment that she wasn't just hiding things from you, but that she was also lying to you. And had many times. The trust began to slip away. Though, she must've sensed your hesitance as she grabbed hold of your hand, effectively tethering you to her. "Can I show you something?" Her other hand raised with purple magic swirling round her fingers. The sight was hypnotic, like unruly violet clouds floating under her control. It was also slightly terrifying. 

Somewhere, someone inside of you was screaming to run, to get out of there while you still had the chance. But the present voice was stronger, and won as you nodded uncertainly. 

"Okay." She let out a sigh of relief, continuing to move her hand closer. You jerked suddenly, due to a moment of doubt, but one look at the hope in her eyes and you allowed her to shift closer. And then closer again until you felt the burning sensation of her fingers against the side of your head. 

Everything was plunged into darkness.   
Then, when your eyes had adjusted, or perhaps your mind had, unidentifiable objects began to form around you. New sensations became available; the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, the smell of burning, and finally the memories started to flood in. But not your memories. Even without knowing your past beyond Westview, you knew these weren't yours. Nor was the anger you were exposed to, or the pulsating power pulling you into darkness, both metaphorically and literally as you ventured further into the forest. Trying to find order in your mind was overwhelming, until it dawned on you. These weren't your memories, they were ~~Agnes~~ Agatha's. 

You could see everything about her. That she was Agatha Harkness, a powerful sorceress with abilities beyond your understanding. But that she was still Agnes, your closest friend and nosiest neighbour. 

You watched, or rather experienced her trial. You witnessed their accusations of betraying the Coven, of stealing knowledge above her place and practicing the darkest magic. You met her mother, and then were sentenced to death by the woman. The pain you felt as the group of witches attempted to carry out the sentence was what brought you back to reality. 

After an eruption of purple light, you found yourself back on the couch at Agatha's, disorientated from the sudden switch. She was speaking, probably frantically checking if you were alright. But you were unable to focus on her words, instead clutching onto that last thread connecting you. For a split second her mind remained an open book, one which you were hurriedly flipping through. If you were to regain trust, then there were to be no secrets.   
One particular thought, or rather feeling, loomed in the present. Simply put: how she felt about you. 

Agatha Harkness is not someone who would go to the ends of the Earth for you. But she is the type of person who would sacrifice the world for you.

The thread was severed, and you were left reeling in the emptiness of your own mind. One thing was apparently clear, you needed your memories back. As for your opinion of Agatha, it entirely depended on her response to what you were about to ask. "Can you get my memories back?"   
Daring to glance up, you saw how she was frozen in place by the request, your optimism started to dull. "It's just that my mind feels so empty. I see how everyone else is under some sort of spell, and doesn't notice- but I do and it's driving me insane."

As you finished ranting Agatha cupped her hands around your face, compelling you to look at her. Sadness gripped her features as she prepared to break the news in whatever way would cause the least grief. "I've already tried." She shook her head. "One night when I was at your house, and it did nothing other than give you more freewill than the rest. It's the best I can do." 

Frustrated tears formed in your eyes, threatening to fall if you continued to listen to Agatha. She looked so hopeless, you hated it. "Well then undo whatever this is." You slipped out of her grip as your hands flailed around, gesturing to everything in anger. If she truly cared about you enough to expose her past, than surely she would be willing to drop this unexplained suburban facade.

"I can't," She reached out to grab your hand, desperately trying to calm you down. "This isn't me."

"Then who is it?" 

"Wanda." She answered certainly.   
At the revelation, you fell into silence. Wanda had been a kind, relatively normal friend. In fact, she sought out this boring normality in place of excitement, she actively avoided anything dangerous. It simply wasn't possible that she could be behind all this. "You have to trust me on this." Her hand was holding your face again, swiping away a tear you hadn't realised was falling. "I'm going to fix this, and when I do, your memories will come back. I promise."

After the devastating recognition that you were helpless in this situation, you sunk further into her hold. She wrapped her arms around you, tugging you closer. Simply being held was enough to calm you down. The oncoming tears disappeared as your breathing slowed, syncing with Agatha's. Now with gradually increasing confidence, you considered telling her how you felt, and began to plan out what you'd say. Before you could voice your confession, however, a noise from outside caught your attention.

It sounded like a strange rush of energy, very unlike something you'd expect in an this kind of neighbourhood. Agatha had also turned towards the source, attempting to peer out the window without moving from her place at your side. She appeared to recognise the sound as soon the adoring look on her face was replaced by one of determination. She began to untangle her limbs, eyes never leaving the window. "I probably need to find out what that was." Rising from her seat, she finally turned to you, resting her hand on your shoulder. "It'd be best if you were out the way for this." 

The abrupt change of atmosphere had taken you by surprise, you couldn't help but feel annoyed by her dismissive nature. Still, without any clear understanding of what was about to happen, you reluctantly stood. "Out the back door please, dear." She delicately lead you towards the back of the house with a hint of urgency in her pace. Any anger you felt had diminished at the word 'dear' despite practically being shoved out the house. You knew she was only trying to keep you safe, but as the door shut behind you, it felt more like abandonment. 


	3. interlude for agatha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a filler chapter but i cant wait for the new ep to write something 
> 
> i love agatha too much  
> anyways enjoy

If Agatha had to pinpoint the exact moment she fell for you, she'd claim it was love at first sight. And while this might be an exaggeration, it was certainly infatuation. 

She'd waltzed into Wanda's existence with the intentions of self improvement. One goal in mind; to learn how she could accomplish such an impressively powerful feat, and then return back to her life of relative solitude. The idea of dragging herself into the sitcom felt like a burden at first, but upon seeing all the opportunities for causing mischief, her outlook changed. Westview would be a brief but well earned break.

And then it was _your_ turn to waltz into _her_ world. 

The few times she'd been generous enough to offer her 'liquid salvation' to anyone at Dottie's meetings, they'd either politely declined or reluctantly accepted. You, however, didn't even hesitate. 

At each meeting so far, you'd sat with as much distance from the group as possible, gently shuffling your chair further back as the conversation progressed. Agatha thought it was amusing. She admired that you didn't wither like the rest under the Queen Cul-de-Sac's scrutiny. 

But this particular time, Dottie had taken action and placed the table behind you, halting your escape attempts. Agatha noticed you had been subtly checking your watch every minute for the past hour, and eventually took pity.   
The flask was in her outstretched hand for hardly a second before you practically snatched it from her.  
She stifled a laugh as it returned mostly empty.

After the meeting had dispersed, Agatha was walking home, lost in thought until she heard footsteps attempting to catch up to her. She turned to face this mysterious character as you reached her side, slightly out of breath from running after her. "Thank you." You'd said, reaching out to touch her arm, before hesitantly retracting the gesture.

Agatha nodded in acceptance, unusually quiet from the sudden unexpected intrusion. It was strange to see you outside of the meeting, having grown accustom to you simply being a background character. _An attractive character nonetheless._

"Sorry for drinking so much." You continued. There was an eagerness in your tone that indicated you were attempting to initiate a conversation, but your eyes betrayed the act. She could see someone else trapped, someone screaming for help. Had she not been literally centuries old, it might've been disconcerting.

With the understanding that she was meant to be playing a part here, she forced the nosey neighbour role to resurface, launching into some dull gossip about Dottie's need to be in control. At least it wasn't a lie.  
Unlike the rest of the robotic inhabitants of Westview, you could actually contribute to the conversation with meaningful insight, or commendable humour. She hated to admit it, but your company was enjoyable. She couldn't help but wonder, if this was your subdued personality, then what were you like in real life? This curiosity compelled her to arrive early for Dottie's next meeting so she could reserve an extra chair.   
You walked her home again.

* * *

Agatha never shied away from her emotions, they just rarely surfaced, so your interference took her by surprise. She kept getting distracted, opting to spend time with you rather than working on breaking Wanda. Usually she would loath the distraction, but just couldn't bring herself to hate you. 

Even the mundane suburban life she'd always dreaded was tolerable with you. She enjoyed your snarky comments during the talent show, summoned a bike so you could join her cycling round the neighbourhood and invited you to her Jazzercize class. All boring activities she would repeat so long as you were by her side.   
Despite enjoying her time in Westview more than anticipated, she still had a job to complete. 

She wanted to know how much ground Wanda's powers controlled, and decided the easiest way to find out would be a visual representation. With _Fietro_ having just arrived at the Vision residence, Westview's other witch would be preoccupied, granting Agatha temporary respite from hiding.   
She used her powers to fly high into the air, savouring the reprieve from being grounded. 

It was quiet, as expected. The autonomy of the town residents was still a question in her mind, but even if they did have freewill, most would likely be at home by now. While investigating the town's edge, something caught her eye. A figure, running on one of the more isolated streets. Upon further inspection, she noticed it was you. And judging by the fast pace, that you might be in some kind of trouble.   
Her concern for your safety outweighed her focus on the task, and with the accompanying realisation that you were a priority now, she decided to walk you home that night. 

Although not so different to any other time you'd spent together, a certain tension lingered this time. An unspoken gratitude, a shared realisation that prompted you to invite her to stay. She was taken aback, bewildered that you appreciated her company enough to let her stay the night. And also curious if you'd meant for the offer to be as meaningful as she felt it was... She chastised herself for letting you get so close to her, but couldn't bring herself to say no.

As Agatha laid on _your_ spare bed, she came to the conclusion that if the relationship was to progress any further, she wanted it to be with the real you, not some mind controlled version. Invigorated by a new purpose, she snuck into your room. However, upon seeing your sleeping form, she paused. You looked so small, so vulnerable, so human. Sudden newfound fears overwhelmed her, mostly centred around one question; If she was to succeed, would you try to leave? 

The possibility that you might attempt to escape Westview after regaining your memories was too great of a risk. It would expose her, jeopardize her plan. And then there was Wanda, who was capable of more than she understood. If she discovered you weren't under her control then that could risk bringing harm to you, and for Agatha, that was almost unbearable to think about.

So she did the next best thing possible. She severed Wanda's control over you, but left your memories untouched. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i'm so glad that y'all are enjoying reading this as much as i enjoy writing it :)


	4. now that everything has gone wrong

Your memories were back. 

The past had been rebuilt in your mind, from flashes of childhood nostalgia to the rebellious teenage years, from the day you'd started your job at SWORD to the blip, which you'd perceived as a timeless moment of nothingness.   
And then you'd returned to a world in chaos, being told that the last five years had passed without you, without half of the world's population. It had been overwhelming to say the least.

You'd thrown yourself back into work, eager for distraction, and been given one in the form of an average suburban town in New Jersey, Westview. The task was simple enough. You were to accompany Monica, "keep an eye on her" had been Hayward's exact words. You despised the man, finding his lack of faith in Monica an insult, but had agreed nonetheless. What you'd anticipated as an easy, if not slightly boring mission, had developed into something more the minute Monica had been pulled through the energy field, engulfed by the town. Ignoring Jimmy's warnings, you didn't even hesitate before going in after her.

Time in Westview was different to reality. Days went by in a matter of hours, yet looking back felt like years. The first few days, or perhaps episodes would be a more apt description, had been spent in a dreamlike state of unconsciousness. The character you played was relatively alike your actual personality, and regardless of being trapped in the strange sitcom, it wasn't entirely unbearable watching everything play out. 

That was, until Agatha chose to give you back your freewill, and therefore the realisation that your memories no longer existed. From then on, you'd been imprisoned in your own mind. But you forgave, for her intentions had been good, and you cared about her too much to hold a grudge. For the same reason, you'd elected to ignore her request to "stay out the way" while she dealt with Wanda, and instead had struggled to keep up with the ongoing fight between the two. As they flew through the air, you followed from the ground, eventually ending up in the centre of town. 

While there, you'd gotten caught up in the group of people whose memories had been returned by Agatha, whether she knew or not remained a mystery. The fact she'd lied about being unable to return your memories didn't go unnoticed, however it was currently inconsequential. 

Despite all Wanda had done, you didn't wish her any harm, unlike the inhabitants of Westview. They'd started to surround her, begging for the torture to end as you kept your distance, stayed out of sight. You watched her lose control, accidently attacking the group, then saw how she regained her restraint, lowering the energy field around the town. Everyone ran at the first chance of freedom while you stayed hidden. Not just waiting for Agatha, but as part of your job working for SWORD. Though now you found yourself rendered useless, only able to observe the battle raging overhead.

* * *

Crimson storm clouds enveloped the sky, casting an ominous red glow across all of Westview. Energy seemed to crackle throughout the air, a testament to Wanda's powers. You understood Agatha was incredibly powerful, yet every time she was struck by the blinding red bursts, you held your breath, waiting for either witch to fall down to the ground.

At first, it appeared that Agatha had gotten what she wanted, absorbing more of the red power with each strike while Wanda's strength was drained from her. She was growing weaker, occasionally missing her target entirely as the power crashed against the town's boundary instead. Finally, the source of her energy perished, and silence fell as Wanda remained posed lifeless in the air. 

Along the walls, new strange markings sparked, drawing your attention away from the two witches as they exchanged words. You didn't understand their meaning, but could guess the outlook wasn't so good for Agatha. Wanda had tricked her, and began to rebuild her strength. A blazing halo of light surrounded her, she was taking her power back, draining it out of Agatha. You prayed that it wouldn't harm her. 

The unnatural red colour from the sky faded as the two witches lowered. Agatha landed first, collapsed from exhaustion, from defeat. Tentatively, you stepped out into the open, finally abandoning hiding. You wanted to run to her, check if she was hurt in anyway, but after seeing Wanda's display of power, you decided to stay out the way.

"Good girl." Agatha almost growled, glancing up at Wanda in disdain. "So what now? Just gonna lock me up somewhere."

"No." She replied, calmly approaching the fallen witch. "Not somewhere. Here."

"Here?" 

Wanda hummed in approval, then looked up to meet your gaze. There was pity in her eyes, unspoken grief on your behalf. "You can say goodbye." She was addressing you now, her voice wavering as she spoke. Not from regret, rather that she was giving you the opportunity she'd never received.

Agatha followed Wanda's gaze, turning swiftly to face you. Her expression softened as she forced herself to sit further up. You could see her trying to work out what to say as you moved closer, but she didn't speak until you were crouched down beside her. "I'm sorry." The confession was quiet, a private admission of failure she'd hate for anyone else to overhear.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Wanda turn round. She knew there was no escape for Agatha, she was granting you privacy. The reality of the situation finally sunk in as you nodded, accepting the apology. At some point, you must've started crying, as Agatha wordlessly reached out to wipe away a tear. Her hand lingered on your cheek as her gaze roamed across your face, trying to memorise every detail like it was her last day on Earth. There was nothing for you to say. No promises to make or reassurances to give. Instead you summoned all the bravery you could muster, and leant forward, closing the slowly diminishing gap between you.

Her lips parted in a soft gasp. You raised your hands to hold her face as she leant against you, desperate to be closer. All you could hear was your heart hammering, your sudden intake of breath as her hand moved round to the back of your neck. The entire world seemed to fade around you, melted by the heat radiating off of her. You knew the kiss needed to end before things grew more heated, and attempted to pull away, only to be stopped as her grip tightened, holding you still.  
  
It felt as though everything had fallen into place. You were finally together after avoiding the blatantly obvious for so long. Realistically, you had spent barely a week in Westview, barely a week with Agatha, yet felt ready to dedicate the rest of your life to her. 

After finally parting, it became clear that lifetime together was just a dream. You had no idea what Wanda had planned, but could imagine the punishment would crush any chance of a real happy ending. All that mattered right now was Agatha. You wanted to savour whatever remaining time you had with her, and subsequently ignored the crumbling world around you in favour of committing the moment to memory. Tears had started to form in her eyes. She was looking at you with so much regret, so much longing, and you were certain your expression mirrored hers.

Still, you didn't want to spend your last moments together in sadness, so blinked rapidly, forcing away your tears in place of a bittersweet smile. "Whatever happens, I'll be here for you, okay?" The words were almost painful to say, but leaving your devotion unvoiced sounded worse.  
She didn't say anything, only wiped away her tears and put on a facade devoid of emotion.

Wanda had turned back around, signalling your time was up. She looked at you remorsefully, then back at Agatha with a conflicted glare. You stood, starting to back up before suddenly feeling her hand grasp yours.   
Although Agatha may never admit it, she was scared. So with Wanda's approval, you held onto her hand as she attempted to persuade, and then beg, and finally, as she became Agnes the nosey neighbour once more.


	5. and the pity is

You were disoriented, drowsy from having just woken up. While your senses were returning, it became apparent that something had roused you from sleep, and even in a lethargic state you were determined to find the reason. This didn't take long upon noticing that you were situated in the far corner of the bed, half hanging off the edge. The rest of the bed was taken up by Agnes, who was shifting uncomfortably. Not quite thrashing around, but certainly vigorously moving, enough to have almost kicked you out your own bed.

In the darkness, you could just make out her face, which was contorted in displeasure. She would occasionally groan or mutter, as if she were reliving a bad experience, a nightmare. You thought through your options, either you could wake her up, or vacate to the spare bed. Originally you'd suggested she spend her first night there, but in Wanda's rewritten character, this Agnes believed she'd divorced her husband to be with you. Now the frequent references were to 'my ex-husband Ralph'. 

Although Wanda had meant for the change in marital status to be an apology of sorts, it only complicated things in your mind. You'd fallen for Agnes, only to discover she was Agatha but still remained equally enamoured, if not more. And now she was back to Agnes, which felt wrong. She was the women you'd become entranced by, but not the one you wanted to be with. _Awfully confusing._  
You'd swerved all of Agnes's displays of affection so far; slipping out of her grip, making up excuses or moving rooms entirely. Guilt usually followed, but allowing Agnes to act on behalf of Agatha felt irresponsible. What if she returned some day only to be repulsed by Agnes's actions? What if it ruined your budding relationship?

Sudden impact upon your face brought you back to the present. Agnes's arm had swung round, hitting you unintentionally, at least you hoped it was unintentional. The pain blossoming in your cheek was enough to have made up your mind. In a moment of stillness, you reached over to place a hand on her shoulder, prepared to shake her gently. Instead, she jerked suddenly, the light contact sufficient to wake her.

Her eyes immediately met yours, unshed tears blurring her view. For the first time since becoming Agnes, she was completely silent. You dared to hope Agatha had returned, that somehow sleep had restored her true personality. 

That hope was squandered as she finally spoke. "Sorry hun," The over joyous tone was evidence enough. "I didn't wake you did I? Was having a ghastly dream."  
  
You sighed, then leant back into the pillow. "No, you didn't wake me." You lied, pinching the bridge of your nose. Getting your hopes up like that had been a bad idea. "What was the dream about?"

"Oh nothing important, just unusual." Your silence prompted her continuation. "About this group of witches- strange I know. No idea where it came from, I don't even watch horror movies." She chuckled humourlessly, hiding the fact it had clearly bothered her. "And no clue why I'm crying." She trailed off, wiping her eyes. 

Even if it had been Agatha lying beside you, the honest display of emotion would've incapacitated you anyway. With the recent never-ending action in Westview, there had been no time to talk, to establish the extent of your relationship. Hearing Agnes talk truthfully on Agatha's behalf felt like a violation of privacy. You had no idea how to reply considering you knew more about the meaning behind the dream than she did. That she was being subjected to nightmares about her own past.

In place of reassuring words, you rolled onto your side, shifting closer to Agnes. Despite you dodging all previous contact, she eagerly wrapped her arms around your form, dragging you closer. It felt so right to be held like this, her arms wrapped around your torso, your head pressed against the crook of her neck. All worries dissolved as you sunk into the embrace, relishing the moment of peace. For the first time that night, sleep was an appealing concept, so you allowed yourself to finally relax fully. As the world started to fade into obscurity, you felt her kiss the top of your head. 

In the final moments before unconsciousness, you were left wondering how something you believed was morally wrong could feel so right.

* * *

"Morning, dear."   
You'd barely made it down the stairs before Agnes had kissed your cheek. It was nice, it was domestic. The simplicity of the action helped you to better understand why Wanda had created all of this in the first place. The longing to respond by taking Agnes's hand was almost overpowering.  
To distract yourself from the desire, you instead set about making tea. She followed you into the kitchen, continuing to talk mindlessly. "I was thinking pancakes for breakfast?" She said the statement as more of a question, then stepped closer in an attempt to gage a reaction.

You nearly agreed. The idea of a proper breakfast was more than tempting, but realistically you couldn't stay. "I can't this morning," You were unable to look at her, fearing the inevitable disappointment. "I have work, sorry." 

After the events of yesterday, SWORD had been working nonstop. Wanda had taken care of the basic problem, but then left the majority of the clean up to everyone else. You'd managed to escape the original debriefing due to your responsibility of looking after Agatha. They'd had no clue what to do with her, so had hastily accepted your offer. It didn't exclude you from work today, however. 

"Oh well, that's a shame." A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, "I was looking forward to it." She reached forth to take the mug out of your hand.

You scoffed as she untangled herself, still clutching onto the drink. "If you wanted some you could've just said."

"But where's the fun in that." She winked at you over the rim of the cup before retiring to the living room. 

* * *

After your unanticipated break from work, it was a struggle to get back into routine. The procedure was to keep as much of what happened in Westview a secret, but release an undetailed statement of recognition to the public. Therefore, the majority of your day was spent being interviewed about your time in the "Westview Anomaly" or "The Hex" as it was sometimes referred to. During the second part of the day, you reunited with Monica and Jimmy. Then they introduced you to Darcy. 

You all took a late lunch break to sit together, each person using the opportunity to tell their own version of events. Even though you'd lived through the anomaly, you hadn't realised the sitcom had been broadcasted outside, or that SWORD had picked up on it. 

"Yup," Darcy took a sip of her coffee. "all thanks to me." 

Everyone raised their drinks in a silent salute of gratitude as you began to think of the consequences to the broadcast. "So the people watching saw it all? You saw everything that happened in Westview?" 

"No, not everything." Darcy answered, to your relief. The idea of being watched all the time was rather off-putting. "Just snippets, whatever Wanda wanted us to see."

"You appeared quite a bit though." Jimmy smirked, leaving you to question what exactly they had seen. 

"Honestly that thing going on between you and Agnes was one of the best parts." Darcy said, mirroring his smirk. "It was charming- and very progressive for a sitcom that started in the 50s." 

"God," You sheltered your face in embarrassment. "I can't believe people were watching that." 

"Hey, at least you didn't have to help deliver Wanda's babies." Monica grimaced at the memory. "That shit was gross!" Laughter spread across the group, everyone enjoying the light hearted break from the intense last few days. 

"Thank god for camera angles, I did not want to watch that." Jimmy added.

You turned to Monica. "It's a shame camera angles couldn't cut out _Geraldine's_ outfit from the 70s." 

She rolled her eyes. "That fish print was awful."

The laughter continued for another few seconds, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. You'd chosen to sit towards the edge of town, finding a gathering of picnic tables in one of the more neglected areas. Without the Hex's idyllic illusion, Westview's true image was revealed to be a town beyond its heyday. Like many places across the country, it was an already deteriorating town that had been hugely effected by the blip. In comparison to the bustling version appearing in the sitcom, Westview was a ghost town. 

You almost felt sentimental after seeing it in its former glory, revitalised by Wanda's reality. Now the only visible life was from SWORD's activities. And after they'd packed up and left, you could imagine the silence that would endure. Most the inhabitants would probably flee, unable to call the town their home after the trauma they'd experienced. They couldn't be blamed for wanting to leave, and remorsefully you felt the same. You didn't want to watch your newfound home die. Hopefully Wanda's magic wouldn't keep Agnes bound to the town, or you'd have to drag her away kicking and screaming. There was no way you could leave her behind.

"So.... what are you guys doing with the rest of the day?" Darcy's question pulled you out of the thoughtful trance you'd been in.

"Probably working." Jimmy answered, wishfully staring at his drink. "I want to get all my work here done today, then start heading home maybe. If I'm lucky."

"I'm staying till the end of the week," Monica sighed. It was clear everyone felt as you did. They were sick of Westview. They didn't want to stay any longer than necessary. "Not sure I'm ready to go home yet. I just threw myself back into work after the blip. I guess I haven't really figured out where home is exactly."

Darcy smiled sympathetically. You realised that neither her nor Jimmy worked for SWORD, they probably didn't know what happened to her mother, understand what she was referring to. To save the conversation from any awkward topics, you placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "That's rough. Coming back after missing five years to find you've lost someone, it's hard to move on when you've missed mourning."

"Did you lose someone?" She asked, wondering if you shared the same kind of grief.

You paused for a minute, working out the best way to respond. "No, I didn't really have anyone to lose."   
The group nodded solemnly, falling back into a thoughtful silence. 

Again, Darcy was the one to break it. "Well you have someone now." She nudged your shoulder playfully. "And I don't just mean Agnes. We'll keep in touch, right guys?" A murmur of agreement passed through the group.

Being with company had awoken you to how lonely life post blip had been. The concept of having friends was comforting. It meant that even if your future was uncertain, your time constantly spent worrying over Agnes, there would be people to support you. 


End file.
